"Granger?' Her bushy hair came into view; a halo of curls around a blob, until her features wobbled into focus and he was looking up into her wide brown eyes full of worry. The thought of her worrying about him made his stomach clench uncomfortably.
"What happened to you?" She breathed, shifting away from him and seating herself on the floor, her knees tucked beneath her. Draco closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the cold floor, his arm flopping across his face. The memory flooded back, every detail as clear as when he'd experienced it, as though he were back in that room, the tang of blood still fresh in the air. He took a calming breath when his stomach turned again.
"I need to transfer schools," He mumbled it into his arm.
"What?" Her voice, for once, wasn't pompous or pretentious, not whining at him about one school rule or another. He found that he liked it, something about it calming him. Her fingers closed around the sleeve of his jumper and tugged his arm away, peering at him with uncertainty, her great mass of hair blocking out the candlelight.
Draco gulped heavily as his hands itched to move an errant strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek, back behind her ear. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, pressing his fingers almost painfully into the floor to keep them in place. It was the Sensieve's fault; all the strange feelings and weird temptations were all directly linked to the stupid magical bowl, and he assured himself that he was just readjusting to being back in the real world. Whether the assertion was true or not, it made him feel better.
"Are you okay?" He closed his eyes at the question, allowing himself a moment of weakness to relish the softness of her voice. It sent the ever-present tingle of magic skipping along his skin in the most delicious way.
"Malfoy?" His name on her lips felt like a bucket of cold water thrown in his face and he shivered back into reality, where he hated the witch hovering over him and everything she stood for. The witch in question went to reach for him again.
"Don't touch me, filthy little mudblood." It was not said with the usual venom, but Hermione still felt the stab of hurt. With a frustrated scowl, she climbed to her feet, brushing down the front of her skirt.
"Fine, but at least tell me what happened." Draco visibly paled as he once again shielding his eyes. "Was it the wizards council?" Draco paused, frowning at her over his arm.
"What, in Merlin's name, are you on about?"
"Did you not see the council? Hmm, we must not have seen the same memory."
"It doesn't matter." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"How many times have we had this argument, yes it does matter. The Sensieve is obviously not going to stop dragging us in here, so we may as well just accept it, and move on." She watched him get shakily to his feet, resisting the urge to help him.
"Well that's easy for you to say, you don't have to see the memories of a child killer."
"What?" Hermione glared at Draco who was leaning against one of the green pillars for support, his legs still wobbling slightly. His hair was a mess, his uniform crumpled, and, for an absurd moment, Hermione thought he'd never looked better. She quickly shook her head, beginning to pace to hide the blush flaring on her cheeks.
"You heard me, the stupid muggle killed children." Draco felt a little guilty for Edward, especially wording it the way he had. He knew the man had no choice, but he couldn't afford to think like that, not about muggles.
Hermione had never felt so heartbroken, she'd wanted so desperately for Edward to be good, hoping with all her heart that Mina would change him.
"We have to go back in, we have to find out…"
"NO, no, I've said it before but, I swear to Merlin, Granger, I mean it this time. I felt it, I actually felt it. Do you know what that means? I felt his blood…and Edward was..." He paused, resting his hands on his knees as his stomach somersaulted.
"Edward what?"
Draco's head snapped up as Hermione stepped closer. Always with the questions, always with the needing to know things that he would rather just forget.
'Why does it matter, why does any of it matter, Granger? You got what you wanted, we've been in the bowl, but I am not, I repeat - just in case your bushy hair blocked the sound - not going back in there." He tried walking towards the door, his vision blurring as he stumbled to the side violently.
"Woah." Hermione rushed forward, wrapping her arm around his waist, trying to take some of his weight. Draco struggled, nearly throwing them both off balance.
"Will - Will you stop being an immature prat, I'm trying to help." He tried to pull his arm away again, as she hoisted it over her shoulders, but a glare from the Gryffindor made him stop.
"I don't need your help." He said it half-heartedly, not entirely believing it himself.
"Of course not, you're just going to bounce off every available surface till you get back to the dungeons." He narrowed his eyes, but reluctantly allowed himself to lean into her a little. He gulped at how neatly she fit against him, magic burning around all the points where they touched. It all good, too good, so he instead took pains to focus on how dizzy and crappy he felt. He was so lost in not acknowledging her and the feeling of her pressed so close that it took him a while to realise they were going the wrong way.
"Wait…where are we going?" He tried to stop, but Hermione kept walking, dragging him along with her.
"The kitchens."
"What? Why?" Hermione paused, her eyes widening in panic.
"Shhh," she hissed, pressing her finger against her lips, and Draco found his eyes flickering down to look at them for entirely too long. "Listen," she mouthed, tipping her head. Their eyes met when they heard the familiar, tap and shuffle of Filch making his way towards where they stood.
"Hide," Hermione said frantically, dragging him along by his arm, with an alarming amount of strength and pushing him into a small broom closet. After fumbling for only a moment she pulled the door closed, plunging them into complete darkness.
"How in Merlin's name is he always where we are?" Draco muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The second time in one night, it had to be a tiny bit more than coincidence.
"Lumos." The tip of Hermione's wand glowed faintly, lighting up their faces and allowing Draco to see just how small the space she'd pulled them into was. Almost like an afterthought, she quickly flicked her wrist and cast a silencing charm, before staring up at Draco with determination.
"You know, the memory I saw wasn't that great either." In spite of his apparent lack of interest, she quickly relayed what she had seen. With each word, magic swelled between them, filling the space, till every breath they took was laced with it.
"That isn't quite on par with killing a child," Draco spat when she'd finished, pressing his ear against the door and scowling when he could still make out the faint mutterings of Filch talking to Mrs Norris.
"You know this is typical of you, of course, you would overreact about something as harmless as a memory."
"Overreact? Harmless?" He stepped closer and Hermione stumbled back into the wall. "You weren't even there, how would you know? I felt everything. All the guilt, the hurt, the…" He tapered off noticing the look Hermione was giving him. He realised with horror how close they were and quickly stepped away, pressing himself against the wall opposite her, nearly sobbing as it made little difference.
"It might actually help for you to talk about it." He laughed bitterly at her statement.
"Spoken like a true Gryffindor." she rolled her eyes, her arms gently brushing his chest as she crossed them, warmth erupting around the connection. He closed his eyes.
"You okay?" She bit her lip as the words rushed out before she could stop them. In spite of her annoyance at his general attitude, she was still worried about him. Whatever he had seen had affected him, was still affecting him.
"I need to get out of here," He mumbled, reaching for the handle, glaring at Hermione when she hindered his progress by bustling between him and the door.
"What are you doing?" She gestured pointedly to the glow of light still peaking under the door, obviously from Filch's lantern. She had to hand it to the man, he took his job very seriously.
"Getting out of here." He tried to sound bored rather than desperate, even though desperate was exactly what he was. Desperate for clear air, desperate to get away from the know-it-all and desperate to stop all the crazy thoughts in his head.
"Will you just wait. I'm sure he'll be gone soon." She said it with as much conviction as she could muster, a slither of doubt making her question whether the caretaker would ever carry on his merry way. Draco grumbled but stepped back, refusing to look at her.
A few moments of silence passed before he finally spoke, looking at her out the corner of his eye, before quickly looking away, "Why were we going to the kitchen?"
"To get you something to eat and drink," she said with a shrug, not meeting his gaze. "You were," she cleared her throat, "you couldn't go back to the dungeons like that." Draco was speechless and incredibly grateful for the low light as he flushed. The idea that Hermione Granger cared a little about him made him feel a lot better than he thought it would. "Plus, I don't - I don't exactly want to go back to the Gryffindor tower, just yet." He could hear the fear in her voice but chose not to acknowledge it, though he wanted to, he couldn't judge her for it.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the light faded from under the door, and Hermione hesitantly opened it, peering out into the gloomy corridor, and sighing with relief. Not wasting any time, she stepped out into the clear air, grateful to be out of the stifling space filled with magic and Malfoy. She turned back to the blonde a little disappointed when she noticed that he seemed back to his normal self; hands dug deep into his pockets and the same general air of indifference as he peered down at her. Her shoulders sagged as he sauntered away without a word. It wasn't that she wanted to spend more time with him per-say, but she definitely didn't want to be alone. While she constantly played down the memories when speaking to Draco, she couldn't ignore the fact that what she had experienced rattled her.
Draco paused, scuffing his shoe along the floor, uncertain what to do with the new, very unfamiliar knot of guilt that was tying itself in his stomach over the thought of leaving a scared Granger alone. Surprising himself, he quickly turned and strode back towards Hermione, who was already making her way despondently back to the Gryffindor tower. Hermione jumped and let out a small squeak when he fell into step beside her.
"I guess they'll have ice cream or something." It took Hermione a moment to work out what exactly was happening and what the blonde was talking about. By the time realisation had dawned he was stomping ahead of her and she rushed to follow him a small smile tugging at her lips.
Draco scowled at his own stupidity, wondering what in Salazar's name was wrong with him, but couldn't help his lips turning up slightly in satisfaction as he heard her rush to follow him. He figured it was because he was scared too and being left alone was the last thing he wanted, even if it meant spending more time with the Prissy Gryffindor. But a small part of him knew that wasn't the case at all. It was small though, and he decided, for his own sanity, it was better not to acknowledge it.